This went on for a full hour longer, the dogs leading them on and on, evidently getting scent of one of the little animals the blacks hunted from time to time; but from their clumsiness, and the activity of the little quarry, each run being without result.
“Where are we now?” said Pete at last, after the yelping of the little pack had ceased.
“It is impossible to say,” replied Nic. “It is all so much alike here in the darkness that I have felt helpless ever since we started; but we must be many miles away from the plantation, and I hardly know how the night has gone in this excitement; but it must be near morning.”
“Must be,” said Pete, “for my clothes are quite dry again, and I’m getting thirsty. What are we going to do now?”
“Keep on, and coax the dogs more and more away. We must not let them go back.”
“No; that wouldn’t do, Master Nic. On’y if they don’t ketch anything they’ll get hungry, and if they gets hungry they’ll grow zavage; and if they grow zavage, what’s going to happen then?”
“Wait till the trouble comes, Pete,” replied Nic; “then we’ll see.”
“That’s good zense, Master Nic; and I b’lieve them brutes are lying down and resting zomewhere. Shall I give a whistle?”
“Yes; it would do no harm.”
Pete uttered a low, piping sound such as would be given by a bird, and it was answered by a bark which showed the direction; and, on turning towards it, a minute had not elapsed before they heard the heavy panting of the three animals, which sprang up and came to them, lolling out their tongues to be caressed.